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Play The Piano Drunk Like A Percussion Instrument Until The Fingers Begin To Bleed A Bit (2002)

Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument Until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit (2002)

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Rating
4.17 of 5 Votes: 1
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ISBN
0876854374 (ISBN13: 9780876854372)
Language
English
Publisher
harpercollins

About book Play The Piano Drunk Like A Percussion Instrument Until The Fingers Begin To Bleed A Bit (2002)

Unsurprisingly, I am once again floored. I finished this book in less than a day and I felt like a 3 year old who just had her lollipop taken away when it was done. I literally felt pouty that it was over. This series of poems is from the 70's and is incredibly eloquent and harsh at the same time. Each thing I read of Bukowski's is like revealing another piece of an unbearably complex puzzle. Last night I had the house to myself and had set up my netflix so I could have the first in a series of Bukowski documentaries delivered. I watched "Bukowski: Born into This" and I found myself weeping at the end. I think probably everything has been said that could be said of this magnificent old lion. Poetry is incredibly personal to me--either it moves me or it does not. I can appreciate when it's quality even if it's not my style. The poets that truly move me become part of me in some way--as if we share a secret. Though in many ways Bukowski and I could not be more different, there are things that bump together that are so powerful that they overcome any differences. I am so thrilled that his body of work is so enormous. I can't wait to read it all and then start over and read it again.

This is the lowest rating I've given to a Buk book so far. Maybe I couldn't understand or relate to the poems, or maybe the poems that were engaging were scarce. I believe it's the latter.It still had the poems that sting and remind you that life is not really all rainbows and flowers and unicorns."don’t forget the sidewalksthe whores,betrayal,the worm in the apple,the bars, the jails,the suicides of lovers."Buk has to throw this reminder in every book. Different words yeah, but the same heart-breaking reminder. But honestly, it's one of the reasons I read his books."long ago, among other lies,they were taught that silence wasbravery."This particular line had a huge impact on me while I was reading.

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This is the first Bukowski book that I ever read. I think Bukowski's importance as an American writer will only grow in the 21st century. The man is already a Hemingway-like figure in Europe.The cultural snobs of academia in America have tried to ignore his work, but that will change. This collection is a grab-bag of previously uncollected poems that Bukowski regularly submitted to small press rags during the late sixties and seventies. These are from the seventies and there are some great poems here dealing with a number of themes: alienation, lonliness, the emptiness of fame, the awkwardness of love triangles, and on and on. Good stuff.
—Raegan Butcher

Some gems are scattered amongst the poems assembled here. I'm surprised the lesser ones appeared while Buk was still living and writing, though, because they're fit for the company of those minor poems that make up most of his posthumous collections. Nevertheless, when he's on, he shines. His basic observations, brazen line-breaks and black humor will probably lead me to read everything he wrote, in search of those jewels.From the proud thin dying:it's the order of things: each onegets a taste of honeythen the knife.
—Eric Cartier

there is nothing to dobut drinkplay the horsebet on the poem.i love the fact that bukowski's poems seem to tell a story, however gruesome that story may be. most of his poems revolve around alcohol/beers, I am dying of sadness and alcohol,cigarettes and love. however, bukowski has a somewhat uncanny perception of love, I have, he went on, betrayed myself with belief, deluded myself with love tricked myself with sex. and I like it when they tell me;they are having luck with a man;luck with their life;after surviving me;they have many joys due them;I make their lives seem better after me., but that's actually fine by me, it makes me sympathize with him more.there was no living creature as foul as I and all my poems were false
—Sophie

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